RIC: Where were you born?

Y: I’m a sex born of a sex born of a sex born of a sex, and so forth, a fruit that fell off a vulva tree.

RIC: Do you know death?

Y: The little one, exclusively. I have several PhDs in this area.

RIC: What is your favourite Italian recipe?

Y: Blood pasta (from your period, darling)

RIC: What do you prefer, mountains or the beach?

Y: Anywhere as long as you and I are into each other.

RIC: Who is your favourite painter?

Y: This bearded man, in the distance, who sprinkles me with his warm white seed, as if he were painting me with his cock.

RIC: What are your thoughts about wild swimming?

Y: When you make love, do you keep your clothes on? So swim naked too, water is sex. And the sexes are made to be rubbed.

RIC: Have you ever picked tomatoes on a farm?

Y: I love getting stuffed with cherry tomatoes, and contracting my ass so that it explodes inside me like ripe fruit. And you come and lap the tomato juice on my lips from below…

RIC: Pearls, gold, or diamonds?

Y: All. Everything is good if the pleasure comes with it.

RIC: What is your favourite memory?

Y: The night we haven’t spent together yet…

RIC: If you could turn into AI, would you?

Y: I am a divine speaking vulva. If I’m not already an AI, what am I?

RIC: Who is the best James Bond?

Y: From vulva with love.

RIC: In memory of a Sufi patient, please describe life in two words.

Y: Baise-moi